I do not own IY, nor do I profit from this fanfic.
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There was only darkness.
It felt like days since I had been placed into this room. My clothes were torn from me, and I was given only a thin, pink yukata to wear. I was unharmed. I had been handled gently, carefully when I was placed in this dark room. Before the door was shut I could see there was a futon, a low table and a few cushions. There was an empty firepit to one side. The room seemed clean and clear of debris. No bugs or other crawling critters were hiding in corners waiting to attack. It was not nightmarish... Just foreign.
When I first entered the room, after the door, thick and strong, closed behind me and I had adjusted, as best I could to the dark, I sat on the futon wondering what was going to happen to me. I had no idea where InuYasha was.
I was sitting on the futon, struggling to get my bearings, trying to make sense of all this when there was a thud on the door. One thick, dull thud. I froze, waiting. Then another thud.
"Who's there?" I managed to squeak out. No one answered. The silence in the room, left in the wake of the thud, was heavy. I waited, frozen on the bed. After some time, I did not know how long, there was another thud. This time, followed by a voice. A male voice, deep and strong.
"Stand against the far wall," the voice told me, "place your hands on the wall, place your forehead on the wall between your hands and look at your feet." Then silence. I didn't move. I wasn't sure if I should defy this voice or follow its orders. "Now!"
Unease rising, I rose slowly and moved to the wall, my hand stretched out before me, feeling my way to it. I had a clear path, the sparse furnishings being off to one side. I reached the wall and did as I was instructed. I waited. I heard nothing.
"I've done as you said," I called out. There was no answer. With my face to the wall the darkness was heavier. I waited. Finally, the lock on the door clicked. The hinge squealed and the door opened. A shaft of light ripped the darkness in half and I heard footsteps behind me.
"Don't turn around, don't lift your head," the voice said, and there was a thread of menace in the tone that had me forgetting anything but obeying.
Heart pounding, I closed my eyes, bracing for some strike, some pain. I heard sound of things being placed on the table then I heard the footsteps retreating.
"Now," the voice said, "back straight away from the wall, don't turn around, just move straight back until you can see the firepit to your left." I hesitated, but then moved back with slow steps. The memory of that menacing tone stayed with me. I edged back until I could see the table to my left. I stopped.
"There is a lamp and a flint, do you see them?"
"Y-yes, I see them," I whispered.
"Picture them in your mind clearly. Know where they are exactly."
A pause, then the door slammed shut and darkness filled the room again. I was alone.
I took a shuddery breath, then stumbled to the table. My hands found the flint almost immediately and felt my way to the pit, now filled with small bits of tinder. Reaching carefully, I struck. Fire flared to life and pushed the dark away and I lit the lamp. The flame danced, flickered and then became steady. The light was humbling, making me realize how small and needy I was. How darkness had filled me with fear. I sat on the futon and took comfort in the meager light for some time.
There was food on the table. Nothing fancy. A bowl of rice, another of some kind of soup. A platter of nuts and berries, and a pitcher of what seemed to be tea. No chopsticks. I supposed the voice thought I would use them as a weapon if he returned. Everything was wood, the plates and bowls and even the tea pitcher. No way to break anything and use one of the shards to fight my way free.
The scent of the food air, filled the room which, until that moment was a cell, with a small feeling of comfort. It having been hours since my last meal, I ate. Belly full, I took greater notice of the room around me. I could now see a door in one wall that I hadn't noticed before. Once opened, it proved to be a small closet. Inside was a wooden chamberpot. This was another relief, and business taken care of I lay down on the futon to wait for whatever might come next.
I was awakened sometime later by another thud. Disoriented, as I was unaware of falling asleep in the first place, I struggled to sit up and focus.
"Turn out the lamp," the voice ordered, "and move to the wall. Don't turn around. Don't look at me."
Not wanting to antagonize the voice, I hastened to obey. After I had stilled, the door opened and He moved into the room, quickly clearing away the dishes.
"I'll leave you the lamp. It's refilled. Use it carefully, I won't fill it again." The voice moved back to the door, shut and locked it and was gone.
Immediately I hastened to relight it, fearful of the pressing, suffocating dark. What was going on here? What did the voice expect? Why was I taken? My thoughts tumbled and tangled until I finally sank back down onto the futon and into blessed oblivion.